


Summer of '78

by CanisConstellation, reaching_my_summit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ALL CHARACTERS LIVE, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Healthy Mixture of Angst and Fluff, Multi, camp counselors, closeted teens, hippie mcgonagall you didnt know you needed her until now, it's 1978, remus lupin wears jorts, use of weed and alcohol, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-04-04 20:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14027784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanisConstellation/pseuds/CanisConstellation, https://archiveofourown.org/users/reaching_my_summit/pseuds/reaching_my_summit
Summary: The stellar summer camp experience provided at Camp Griffin’s Door revolves around three things: being adventurous, making great friends, and creating memories that last a lifetime. For Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, it does a little more than just that.Playlist we created for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/1232299926/playlist/4ew0RfR3i5HrNoAtHnS1Aq?si=GbXv-Ja5Rkih15_TFP0LgQ





	1. Fireside

A fire crackled in the stone pit as a dark-haired 19-year-old strummed her guitar, playing personal favorites from the _White Album_ for nine other summer camp counselors. Tonight was their night of celebration (and last night of freedom) after seven days of grueling Minerva McGonagall-brand training. Tomorrow morning, they would greet over seventy rambunctious children. Tonight, however, they could throw their responsibilities to the wind. A petite blonde rested her cheek against her guitarist girlfriend’s shoulder, her hand tucked securely into the back pocket of said girlfriend’s jeans where no one could see. Drinks were passed freely around the circle, along with a little weed from their own Camp Director. (“If any of you are too high to function tomorrow, I will know, and I _will_ kick your ass.”) Bunk 5’s counselor, a boy by the name of Remus Lupin, almost fell over laughing as his best friend made a fool of himself for the umpteenth time that week in front of the “girl of his dreams.”

“You’re classless, Potter. Were you raised by savages?” Severus Snape, the counselor of Bunk 6, sneered. He eyed James Potter with nothing but contempt. The idiot’s hair was already horribly unkempt, but now it was singed on the ends as well. “Your shirt is on backwards, you’ve lost one shoe, and...Did you make any attempt to fix your hair at _all_ this morning, or did the rats living inside that nest chew your brush to pieces?” 

“The true question is, Sev, did you even make an attempt to wash yours at all last _week_? I can smell you from all the way over here,” James shot back, a smirk crossing his face, bronze skin practically glowing in the light of the fire. That could have been his pride, drunkenness, sweatiness, or perhaps a mixture of all three. He might have almost fallen into the fire doing a drunken handstand and subsequently angered Lily Evans once again, but he still had his dignity. No Snapes could take that away from him.

The music was paused to allow everyone to listen to the two boys’ banter. Remus had heard it all a million times before, though, and he was much more interested in getting much, much higher. “You’ve been holding onto that for the past three pulls, McKinnon, hand it the fuck over,” Remus hummed at the entertainer. Marlene blew the smoke directly into his face before passing over the joint, which Remus took with the middle finger up on his other hand. He took a generous drag and felt it hit his head all at once. The smoke was held in his lungs for a moment before he blew it all towards the fire. Reaching across a doubled-over James, he handed the drugs to a certain Sirius Black, who was head of the bunk across from his own. Their fingers brushed when they made the trade-off and, in Remus’ state, it made goosebumps prickle all over his skin. He hoped that no one noticed, but if anyone did, he could always blame it on the drugs. Remus could describe his mental state since arriving at camp a week prior in two words-- _queer_ and _paranoid_. 

“Alright, kids, stop your fighting. Black, put out that light for now--Careful! Don’t lose any of that hash. I can’t get to town often enough to supply my own habits, you know that,” Minerva McGonagall winked. She stood up from her sitting stump and put her hands on her hips. “I expect you all to put your differences aside by tomorrow morning. I will not have a repeat of last year, _Fabian_. You cannot just put scorpions in someone’s pillowcase because they, quote-unquote, deserved it,” she frowned, making little air quotes with her fingers before letting her hands fall to her sides. “I chose you to be examples for these children. Therefore, I expect you to be _good_ examples--”

Lily Evans interjected. “So...Not whatever Potter is currently being, just to be clear,” she quipped. She shot a smirk over at Marlene and Dorcas, who were still leaning against one another. Summer romances already springing up in a week, of course. Yawn.

McGonagall almost smiled. “Fabian, get some water in him before bed, will you? I’m not going to deal with head-splitting hangovers on top of Lupin having a residual high. I’m this camp’s director, after all, and I will not have the parents judging me more than they already do for wearing my fucking--”

“Minnie, I know, but people still don’t like hippies.” 

“Poppy _Pomfrey_. It’s true, but that doesn’t mean you have to say it,” Minerva smiled down at her, smoothing her long skirts before she sat down next to her partner and wrapped an arm around Poppy’s waist. “If you tell any of the campers that the hot nurse is my girlfriend, I’ll put you all on dishwashing duty with Frank for the rest of the summer.” 

“Aye aye, Captain,” James saluted, promptly faltering and falling backwards off the log. 

“Okay, someone has to carry him back. Counselors! The stellar summer camp experience we provide at Griffin’s Door revolves around what three things?” McGonagall clapped for half minded attention.

“Choosing your adventures, making great friends, and creating memories that last a lifetime,” the whole crowd droned the camp motto while slumping on their logs. What was meant to be inspiring fell short to a group of inebriated half-adults. 

Minerva was not impressed. “Aren’t you all just perfect pictures of bright-eyed and optimistic camp counselors?” James followed her comment with a dopey grin and waved to her, looking proud of himself, as always. 

McGonagall and Poppy left then, and most of the counselors followed (well, in James’ case, he was dragged). Marlene and Dorcas stayed back to whisper about something before grinning to each other and running off the direction opposite the cabins. Remus had only stayed back to talk to them, but apparently they had no interest in anyone but each other. He rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his beer, then turned to rise before he caught the eye of another counselor--Sirius. Christ. Say something, Lupin. “Hey,” he mumbled, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Some speech McGonagall gave. I’m sorry about James, by the way, since he probably fell on you twice.” Remus pursed his lips and dropped his beer bottle, looking up at the sky so that he wouldn’t have to look at Sirius. 

Sirius had zoned out before the motto, staring into the fire without much thought besides how the embers looked like rubies. God. He was slightly...okay, maybe entirely high. He was aware of everyone leaving, but it took Remus shifting around for his reverie to subside. Looking up was either the best or worst choice he had made his entire life. Ever since he laid eyes on Remus Lupin, he had felt a steadily increasing urge to hug or kiss the gorgeous boy and would take whichever of the two Remus would allow. Just ogling him was almost enough. Almost. It was 1978 and he was as queer as a football bat, so he suspected that the counselor of Bunk 5 would not appreciate his advances. Nevertheless, he mumbled back an awkward hey and immediately felt the need to kick himself, cursing this embarrassing part of his nature. Any time he talked to an attractive guy, he lost all confidence and turned as ineloquent as James Potter--He said stupid shit, but at least he kept a cool composure. “What an inspiration that woman is. I’d vote for her over Nixon any day,” He responded, attempting to sound witty. Did he? He already knew that he was going to replay this conversation in his head for an hour before he fell asleep and regret at least half of it for the next ten years. “Ah, I wasn’t really bothered, about James. You probably handle a lot more than most of us do, being a part of his friend group, and all. Um,” Sirius paused, twiddling his thumbs for a moment before blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Musicals. Thoughts?” 

He had really just brought up musicals. Corvettes, fuck, why hadn’t he mentioned Corvettes? Damn it! Guys liked corvettes. They liked cars. (Mother had just got him a red Corvette as a bribe to keep him from spilling news of his latest beating to his father. Walburga Black was a joy.) The lead up to the topic at hand, well...It was nonexistent. He supposed he didn’t have much lead up to the Corvette thing either, but at least it was manlier than musical fucking theatre. As he continued to overanalyze every second of their interaction, he hardly processed Remus’ response. Melting into the ground would have been a handy skill to possess at that moment. 

“I don’t really know any musicals,” Remus smirked, looking back over at Sirius. Was it his imagination, or did Remus seem rather nervous? “My high school didn’t have a theatre department or anything. I take it yours did, since you and Dorcas have been fighting over who would make a better director for the past week. She’s pretty adamant about the fact that she’s the better choice and deems it necessary to tell me that every time she opens her mouth. I, however, have not heard your side of the story, and I think I need to in order to make a fair judgement on the matter,” he mused, his crossfaded brain giving him a significant amount of courage. Enough to send him scooting over to take a seat on Sirius’ log, at least. Sirius was a _beautiful_ boy. He was half-Japanese, Remus had learned, with choppy, shoulder-length black hair, grey eyes, and the best bone structure that God could create. He was about a head shorter than Remus and thin in every place save his hips and thighs. _Christ_ , his lips. Remus had been watching them move as he nodded along to what Sirius had to say.

“--And she likes _Shakespeare_ , Remus. That’s why I’m better than her! She has lousy taste, and if I have to put on another performance of A Midsummer’s Night Dream I’ll--”

“Sirius,” Remus interrupted, blinking for a moment. James had told him that in California, gay men would high five on the street as a signal for queerness, so now they couldn’t high five because people would get the wrong idea about their ‘beautiful, wholesome friendship.’ “Would you mind giving me a high-five?” 

Sirius’ rant came to a screeching halt as Remus mentioned a high-five. A high-five? Here, by a campfire, with no reason for it? Oh. Oh. Lightbulb. His epiphany turned his thoughts with embarrassing swiftness to the newer meaning of the gesture. They were now a means for gay men to recognize each other in larger cities. He studied Remus’ expression and searched for something, hell, _anything_ , that might indicate any underlying intentions. Before the moment could pass, he raised his hand with obvious avidity in both his eyes and his movements. Remus met his gaze with startling intensity, conveying an answer to a question he didn’t dare ask. Could he read minds?

The high-five was slow as they mirrored one another’s movements, raising their hands and meeting palms. Sirius’ attention shifted from Remus’ gaze to their hands and felt heat rising in his cheeks. At the same moment, Remus Lupin made a decision. After seven days of stolen glances and pure pining on his part, a simple, seemingly innocent and boyish symbol was their catalyst. Remus closed the distance between them and Sirius was sure he would pass out. It was about as awkward as a makeout could be, but to him, it was mind blowing perfection. With only two other curious guys to compare it to and a string of girls who had more than confirmed his sexuality, Remus was quite possibly the holy grail of all makeouts. McGonagall’s provided weed may or may not have influenced his perception of reality, but Sirius would swear to Dorcas later that Remus Lupin was the best kisser on the North American continent. At _least_.

Everything was clumsy, from the way their teeth occasionally scraped against each other to hands that were impossible to coordinate. After minutes or maybe seconds passed, Remus was pulling at Sirius’ waist for closer proximity, changing their position from bending awkwardly towards each other to pressing flush against one another. Such intentions failed as Sirius lost his seat on the log and slipped, landing flat on his ass and, of course, taking Remus with him. Thankfully, there was no time for mortification. The vitality of the ongoing bonfire bathed their sides as they made eye contact once more, their lips crushing together again with zero finesse. Remus took advantage of the fact that he was now practically straddling his fellow camp counselor’s lap, and curled his fingers tightly into Sirius’ black hair. It was just as he imagined, impossibly soft to the touch. It convinced him that he was officially ten percent gayer than he was before he asked for the stupid high-five. 

It took all the willpower Sirius had to place his palms on Remus’ chest and push away just enough to make it possible to speak. The vulnerability in the other boy’s eyes at being forced away made his heart leap into his throat. “Hi, um, so. I have cabin. There’s a rock digging so far into my ass I think it’s trying to get frisky. Can we go there? My bed is shit but it’s more comfortable than the ground, I promise.” 

 

When Remus was pushed away, he immediately knew what words would come next.  
_Sorry, fuck, I’m just so_ **drunk**. _We can have fun. It doesn’t have to mean anything_.  
He was pleasantly surprised to hear that _holy shit Sirius Black was asking him to bed_. Okay. Maybe not that kind of bed. But in a bed with another boy. That would be new. “You do have cabin. I don’t want that rock getting any friskier without consent, so yes, we can go there,” he blushed, pushing himself off the ground and standing to dust all the ash and dirt off his clothes. He reached down to help Sirius up and kept his hand in Sirius’ for a moment before pulling it away. Remus wasn't one to make assumptions.

Sirius did not have to wait long for an answer. A grin brighter than the star he was named for spread across his features when Remus _didn’t say no_. Of course, he wasn’t asking for that kind of bed, he didn’t dare assume that Remus was _that_ interested in him. Was this a drunken mistake to him? Possibly, but at least they kissed. Sirius’ intoxicated brain hardly cared for such technicalities. What he could process was that for a few precious seconds, Remus was holding his hand, but he quickly let go and left Sirius’ palm noticeably tingling with energy. Before Sirius could fixate too much on the idea of holding Remus’ hand, he stepped over the log and led the way back to his cabin--albeit in a rather stumbly fashion. 

Despite all attempts to keep silent, Sirius accidentally slammed the screen of the bunk’s door open so loudly that he was sure the entire camp would wake up. That was currently only a dozen people or so, but still. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest as he closed the door behind Remus, surprised that they had actually made it to this point. It wasn’t just some weird weed dream. Sirius pulled back the covers of his cot and crawled under them, kicking off his shoes one at a time as a weight settled in beside him. These beds really weren’t made for two people. So. Sirius scooted over enough for Remus to lie down before daring to climb on top of him. The next two hours--Christ, it really was two--were spent with the knowledge that they were _both_ excited, but neither dared to go further. It made both boys feel giddy in ways neither of them could convey. Eventually, the need to sleep caught up to them, and they curled up together in the rickety excuse for a bed.

“Hey,” Remus whispered as he traced little patterns down Sirius’ spine. “You should be the director. Dorcas doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

\---


	2. Mooning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter encourages you all to practice safe sex.

_The counselors’ cots were located inside screened-in porches attached to their bunks so that they could guard their hoard of children and be the first to have daylight hit their eyes. They could also hear the morning bell’s toll crystal clear, which gave them zero reprieve from its obnoxious clanging. “Five more minutes” were simply not possible to ask for, and Sirius Black was in no way, shape, or form a morning person. That’s why he ran theatre in the afternoons, and not the fucking ropes courses at the ass crack of dawn like Remus and James. He would probably die if he ever had to climb anything, anyway. He liked his feet on the ground, thank you very much. He’d leave the rock scaling to Remus...Though he wouldn’t mind a chance to scale **that** tall tree. God damn._

Remus woke up to the colors of dawn fading into the sky, all periwinkle and blush. He blinked back the heaviness of sleep from his eyes and was suddenly very aware of where he was and who was lying on top of him, half-naked and drooling. _Jesus Christ._ “Remus, you are a fucking idiot,” he whispered to himself, covering his face with his hands. He was going to make the entire summer an awkward mess because he thought it would be a wise idea to make out with a drunk boy. _Never again_ , he promised himself. Remus started to inch himself out from under Sirius and forced himself not to look down, not wanting to get attached to a gorgeous, sleepy face. Once he was up, he pulled his shirt back on and began the search for his shoes before he heard the morning bell reverberating throughout the camp, followed by Gideon Prewett screaming several curses from the next bunk over. _Shit shit shit shit shit._

It took Gideon’s vulgar screaming to finally wake Sirius. He rolled over in his cot and felt around for the warmth that had been there previously with one hand, rubbing at his eyes with the other. At first he thought he’d dreamed the events of the night before, but there Remus was. He opened his mouth to hum a greeting but immediately realized that Remus was trying to leave. Remus looked positively mortified when he saw that Sirius was awake, and almost fell over as he fixed the strap of his sandals around his ankle. The sight sent a painful stab through Sirius’ chest. Remus probably did not like the fact that after enduring a night of inebriant-fueled makeouts and tentative dry-humping, he had woken up next to another guy. 

“Everyone’s getting up, so I…” Remus swallowed. “I thought I should go, yeah? Thank--” Was that the proper thing to say at all? He had no idea how these things were supposed to go. No one ever taught you how to be queer; You just _were._ “Thanks.” 

“MCGONAGALL, I HEARD THE BELL THE FIRST FUCKING TIME, I SWEAR TO GOD--”

“Ah, Gideon. That’s my cue,” Remus waved weakly, dipping out of the little porch and bolting down the paved road that wound around the bunks to his own. He looked back at Sirius’ cabin once he was safe inside his own and sighed, mumbling about how fucking stupid he was for the second time that morning and angrily grabbing his shower caddy. The first boy in the shower house got all the hot water, and he’d be damned if he had to take freezing showers because of Fabian Prewett’s inconsiderate ass. Turning on the faucets was always the worst part. _Squeak._ Cold, cold, cold. Freezing. Fuck. No. Too hot. Just there, at an angle of 38° from the left, and he was golden. Showers were the best places to think in, and Remus Lupin was of the opinion that any predicament could be resolved after mulling it over for a bit under hot water. 

_Alright, Lupin. Options. A) Skip town and change your name. No, you’d need money to do that, which is why your broke ass has this job. B) Act as though nothing happened. Okay, maybe that’s a little far fetched. C) Have a summer fling that will ultimately end in heartbreak, because there’s no way that Sirius Black, son of the governor of Massachusetts, would ever be comfortable with being anything other than fun, and even if he was, he’s in a political family, so if anyone found out, it wouldn’t be that hard to get stalked, mugged, or killed. Sirius’ father might even do the killing. Well, you know what they say--It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all._

He might have to think about all of this a little bit longer. For the time being, he got to work scrubbing the sweat and grime off his skin and tried to dissociate. Otherwise, his mind might stray to thoughts of the previous night. If he allowed himself to think about it...Well, this was a much too public place. 

Unbeknownst to Remus, back in Bunk 12 Sirius was currently curled over on the edge of his bed cursing his own existence. He just had to kiss a drunken member of the 'Straight Brigade,' as Dorcas teasingly called them--scratch that, _called James_ , mostly whenever the boy drooled over any moderately attractive girl that came within a 30-foot radius. Sirius had to give him credit, though. James had toned it down ever since he’d fallen in love with Evans at _‘first sight, guys! I’m telling you we’re meant to be!’_ That only took a week. But maybe he really was in love. Who could say? Certainly not Sirius. Certainly not the idiot who’d just made out with James’ best friend, gotten a stiffy, and now had to face the petrifying consequences. An image of Remus’ horrified face flashed through his mind and his eyes stung just a bit. 

Dorcas burst through the screen door at just the right time, like she always did. It was her special super power, Sirius had openly theorized. _“So I was given the power to take care of your sorry ass. Great! God knows you need it.”_ Dorcas had teased.

“Sirius, up and at ‘em! The campers will be here soon!” Dorcas informed him, as if he might have forgotten. Assuming his hunched posture was from demise for the light of day, she tugged at his arms to pull him up. One look at his expression told her something was wrong. “What happened? Did you get another call from your mother? I’ll get Marlene to fight her, just say the word!” 

“No, it’s not her, Dori. I fucked up. I fucked up _bad._ ” Sirius hated how his voice cracked, but he’d never been good at dealing with stressful situations outside of the hell that was his family. Perhaps Mother just sucked all the capability to do so out of him. He already suspected that she was some form of vampire as is. It took little time at all to explain himself as he breathlessly relayed the events of the night before, animatedly gesticulating throughout his monologue. 

“Shit, Black. Even I didn’t think you were that stupid. From the Straight Brigade, _really_?” Dorcas pinched the bridge of her nose, looking down at the ground and placing a hand on her hip. “Well, is he gay, or is he not? If he’s gay, did he seem self-hating?” She prodded further, looking back over her shoulder to see the topic of this conversation zipping back to his cabin with a towel wrapped around his waist. “Well, I see why you like Lupin now. He’s your type, isn’t he?” She snorted. “Lanky, tan… Nice ass.” A pillow soon smacked her in the face while Sirius screamed about ‘protecting Remus’ innocence.’ And so what, if he didn’t like someone else looking at the boy’s ass. Nobody could be wholly selfless, could they? 

“I don’t need you tell me I fucked up. I know I fucked up! What happened to consoling me? Being my shoulder to cry on? And I…Well, I don’t know. He looked mortified when he saw me this morning, which could possibly mean he’s self-hating. Or, he just thought ‘Wow, my straight ass just made out with a boy! I can’t believe I did that!’ Either way, I _lose_ , Dorcas!” Sirius already had a headache and the kids weren’t even at camp yet. What a morning. “Let’s get to breakfast before Minerva deals out the shit chores to the less-than-punctual counselors.” 

The fear of latrine cleaning was great, so they both rushed to get ready and ran up to the mess hall for breakfast. Snape and Fabian were late, of course. James made a loud remark about Severus looking less greasy than usual, and as a result, a very awkward breakfast ensued. Sirius kept his eyes on his plate for the most part, trying not to feel like a third wheel as Dorcas and Marlene whispered and giggled together. When their sideways glances shifted towards him, he had a feeling he knew what they were whispering about. 

Remus ignored him, but didn’t he always? Was this any different than the last week of meal times? It wasn’t like he was a part of that rough-and-tumble boy clique, anyway. There was Remus, James, Peter, and Fabian in that group, and Lily, Dorcas, Marlene, and Sirius in the other. Whatever ‘other’ was. The intermediary party was made up of Gideon Prewett, Fabian’s nerdy twin, and Kingsley Shacklebolt (who reminded them frequently that he was working at camp only to be able to put it on his resume). Snape was just around because he followed Lily here, as they were childhood friends (and he was very much stuck in that friend zone, but _by God, he’d make her see what kind of man she really needed!_ ). Due to the nature of these rag-tag classifications, Remus and Sirius certainly weren’t more than acquaintances, and now it seemed that they were fated to be even less than that. _What a fuck up._

Little did Sirius know, Remus was over-analyzing every second of the breakfast, as well. James mentioned how lucky Sirius was to be surrounded by girls, but Remus wondered if Sirius actually appreciated it the way James thought he should. Remus kept having to talk himself out of sneaking glances over at the dark-haired beauty in question several times, tension becoming very evident in his posture. “Remus, what’s the matter with you? You look like you’ve seen McGonagall naked... WAIT, HAVE YOU?” 

“As if Mr. Lupin would be so lucky. I’d appreciate you not discussing my nudity at the breakfast table, Mr. Potter.” Minerva scoffed, spreading butter over her english muffin. 

Remus turned to James and gave him a strained ‘if it were not for law enforcement I’d shank you’ smile, shaking his head. “I am perfectly fine. No clue what you’re talking about, man.” Dorcas’ comment broke Remus’ attempts to ignore all things Sirius, his ears soon turning pink. 

“Have you got a stick up your ass or what, Sirius? Relax!” Dorcas chided, flicking a piece of egg at him with her fork. 

Such a comment left Sirius equally mortified, jerking away from the egg projectile. “Oi, knock it off! My ass is perfectly fine, thank you!” 

_It is perfectly fine,_ Remus noted mentally. _I noticed after having my hands all over it last night._

“Speak of things up asses, Black, I’ve got some lube with your name on it! Finest of the market, scent and chemical free! Reduces friction! Gotta get that stick out somehow! And who knows, you may want to get your stick in one of _these_ lucky ladies--,” Before Peter could continue one of his famous personal marketing advertisements, Lily smacked him in the head and effectively ended that conversation. 

Just two seats down, Fabian was currently placing a thumb tack on Severus’ seat as ‘Greaseball McGee’ walked up to the line to get more food. It was a classic prank, possibly overused, but Sirius actually supported his efforts, for once. Fabian may be possibly the biggest idiot among them, but he enjoyed the idea of any form of Snape-Torture after the past week of the terrible-attitude-syndrome Severus had subjected them all to.

“Can we _please_ just have one nice breakfast? I’m getting old. I have very few last requests left to make in life, but the absence of bickering and sex talk while I’m trying to eat my eggs-in-a-basket is one of them.” McGonagall complained, setting down her fork and glaring directly at Fabian. 

 

Fabian blinked innocently, appearing as if he hadn't just placed a sharp object in the vicinity of someone’s waiting seat. “We’re all being sweet and proper hear, Ma’am. This is the nicest breakfast we’ve had all week.” 

“I HAVE CONDOMS AND LUBE IF ANYONE IS TRYING TO FUCK. THAT’S ALL I’M SAYING!” 

“Peter!” 

“Minerva, you’re only forty-six.” Poppy commented, ignoring the fight that ensued between her girlfriend and their counselors and rolling her eyes at the profanities that flew. 

“Alright, you heathens, the children will be here within the hour and I need all of you to drop this childish nonsense and go do what you’re supposed to do!” McGonagall stood from her seat and snatched her plate up, huffing like the grumpy momma bear she was as she walked into the kitchen. 

“What ARE we supposed to do?” Fabian called after her, receiving one venomous declaration of how much of a smart ass he was in response. 

\--

Remus was assigned the youngest group of the rowdy bunch of boys--The nine-year-olds. The best part about having the youngest kids meant that you didn’t have to deal with the _middle schoolers_. Middle schoolers cracked ‘your mom’ jokes every two minutes, were incapable of listening to anyone or anything, and stayed up _all night_. Sorry, James, Fabian, and Peter. Get fucked. He led his kids to their bench under the welcome pavillion and lined them all up in the front row, taking a seat on the end of it and looking behind him only to see Sirius’ ass inches away from his face. Sirius was bent over to help an already injured child put antiseptic ointment over a scrape, it seemed, and Remus just so happened to have waterproof band-aids with him at all times. He reached into his backpack and grabbed one before tapping Sirius’ elbow with all the courage he had. “Hey. Got band-aids. Looked like you needed one. So, ten-year-olds, huh? They go to sleep early, too…”

 _I want all of our campers to go to sleep early so that I can sneak out and make out with you behind trees and in bathroom stalls._ That was the next sentence that came to mind. Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say, especially since Sirius probably had no interest in even looking at him in front of the other counselors. Remus was a thirsty bitch and he needed to calm the fuck down. Staying safe and sound in the closet was the most important thing. “That sounded weird. What I meant to say was--”

“CAMPERS!” Poppy Pomfrey belted out in a sing-song voice. “It’s SING-ALONG SOCIAL TIME! Repeat after me! A yellow bird--”

The deafening choir of almost 80 children began, then, and Remus had to perk up and scream right along with them to their camp songs. “A YELLOW BIRD!” 

“With a yellow bill--”

“WITH A YELLOW BILL!”

“Was sitting on… My windowsill!”

Thunderous clapping. Thunderous stomping. Tone and pitch whom? They didn’t know her.  
“YELLOW BIRD WITH A YELLOW BIIIIIIIIIIILL SITTING ON MY WINDOWSIIIIIIIILL!”

He could just look like an idiot in front of Sirius Black forever. That was fine.


	3. Canoeing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus needs help in the canoe shed.

Remus had fallen into the lake twice that day and, due to the nature of his myriad of jobs as a ropes course counselor, lifeguard, and canoeing instructor, was covered in grime more often than not. The younger campers had a difficult time pushing their canoes off the banks and an even more difficult time pulling them back to shore, so most of his day was spent knee deep in green sludge. Naturally, everything up to his shins was usually covered in obscene amounts of watery mud. Such was his current state. As he dragged the canoes through the tall grass and stacked them all back up into the shed (he had TRIED to convince McGonagall that they need a boat house and she would hear nothing of it), he only got more disgusting. Sweat made his hair stick to his head and dirt began to cake on the underside of his feet and between his toes. In some works, his state might be portrayed as manly, attractive, or rugged. Here, however, Remus Lupin is simply _gross_. This gross boy made his way back up to the bathhouse and very happily lost himself in a hot shower, scrubbing himself down until he was almost raw. He got into his boxer shorts and a tank top once he dried off and went over to the sinks to brush his teeth, thinking about how minty Sirius tasted last night, like he had popped some altoids just in case or something. God, he was a fucking idiot. _So, ten-year-olds, huh? They go to sleep early, too._ What the FUCK was he thinking?

Sirius Black did not do sweaty. With his job, he didn’t really have to. The Playhouse had been newly fitted with a central air conditioning unit and it had been smooth, body-odorless sailing since then. When he came in for a shower, he looked under a stall and saw mud practically pouring down the drain. Fucking disgusting. He turned his nose up at the sight and took only a few minutes to wash his hair, because dirt man over there had already hogged the hot water. Once he was done, he walked out in a towel to see none other than the DIRT MAN himself--Remus Lupin. He turned about six different shades of red over the next three seconds. _Of course, this would be his luck._

Remus saw who was behind him in the mirror and realized rather quickly that the toothpaste foam around his mouth was not attractive, so he immediately spat and wiped the residue away with the back of his hand. Turning on his heel (and almost slipping on the water under his feet), he smiled at Sirius and gave him an awkward wave. Smooth, Remus. Smooth. “Hey,” he mumbled, leaning back onto the sink. “So, um. I’m sorry. About…This morning. And this afternoon. I probably sounded ridiculous.” _And I’m about to sound even more ridiculous._ “But, ah. I need some help down at the canoe house, if your campers are already in bed,” he mumbled, beginning to pick at his fingernails unconsciously. He always did that when he was nervous. _Ten-year-olds went to sleep early, after all._

Help down at the canoe house? Alone with Dirt Ma--Remus. He meant Remus. After that morning’s events, Sirius was certainly caught off guard. That display had sent the _let’s never speak of this again, goodbye!_ Signal loud and clear, so he assumed Remus would avoid him from then on. Nevertheless, his interest was piqued. “Yeah, sure. What do you need help with, exactly?” He asked, slowly becoming aware of the fact that he was in a towel in front of the guy he made out with last night. _Strike me down, God._

“Er, well, putting the canoes up, if you don’t mind. It’s difficult to lift them above my head by myself,” Remus explained, hoping he wasn’t coming off as some super-creepy-pervert. It was just an innocent request for help, even if he was imaging all the things they could get up to in an isolated canoe house alone. Also, the canoes were already put up. Easy Remus, take a step back. He just wanted to talk, yeah? _OH, is that what the kids are calling it these days?_ “Okay, so I don’t actually need help.” Damn his conscience. “Just… Meet me there, if you want. Once you get some clothes on.” He walked out then, letting his hand brush against Sirius’ before heading down the to the pond and deciding to sit down on the edge of the little dock with his back to the hill.

Sirius Black pulled the hand Remus had just touched up over his chest, holding it there protectively as blush began to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. This just wasn’t fair. He quickly brushed his teeth and ran back to his cabin to find something to wear. What exactly did you wear to a canoe shed at a summer camp on a muggy June night? He went through about three different outfits before he decided on a pair of athletic shorts and a simple black tee shirt. After a few minutes of pulling at the shorts and staring at his own ass in the mirror (Was it a bit lumpy?), he slipped into his flip-flops and padded down the hill, trying to push back the fear that welled up in his mind. What exactly was Remus Lupin getting at? Sirius couldn’t even help but be afraid--Was Remus an extremist? Someone who tried to gain a gay man’s trust just to kill him, for the “good of the world” or something like that? Was he just a curious boy, lost and confused and starved for attention? Was he really queer? If he was, was Sirius just convenient? Sirius stopped dead and thought about turning around, looking back over his shoulder to the tops of the trees, staring down the branches that formed strange, broken shadows under moonlight. Full moon. Marlene once said that during the full moon, everything was magnified in clarity, power, fullness, and desire. Sirius didn’t often believe in anything symbolic, but tonight, he said a quick little prayer.

_Hey, Moon. Luna, if you prefer I’d call you that. There is supposed to be a very, very attractive queer boy waiting down for me at the lake. I have some wishes. Do you take wishes? I hope so. Three is the standard number, so I’ll go for that. Wish numero uno: Please let him be gay. I don’t want him to be a murderer who targets devastatingly beautiful, innocent young boys who have yet to lose their virginity. If I died before losing my virginity, my corporeal form would never forgive me. Number two: Please don’t let me get my hopes up. Number three: If it is in your will, let him fall in love with me so that we can buy a little cottage home and have a garden and make love well into the night every single evening and--_

“Sirius? Is that you?” Remus asked, hearing quite a bit of whispering. “Did you--Decide to bring someone else to help, or…?”

“JUST TALKING TO MYSELF,” Sirius yelped, quickly covering his mouth and cursing himself. The dark had been misleading, and it turned out that he wasn’t far away from the lake at all. Remus probably thought he was a freak. “Had to, you know. Run over lines for tomorrow. Busy, busy, you know,” he coughed, trying to grin but looking like he was in a bit of pain, instead.

“Right, of course,” Remus smiled a bit, nodding his head. “It must be hard, trying to remember all of that stuff. Much harder than what I do. Stomping around in the mud a bit, making sure kids aren’t stupid, that’s my day.” He stood up and awkwardly walked towards Sirius. “Can’t seem to make sure that I’m not stupid, though. Do you--Can I--” Remus struggled, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants and frowning. “Sorry. Are you--Are you queer? Because if you aren’t, I’m really sorry for forcing myself on you, or whatever you think I did. I know that we were--You know, under the influence, and shit. Shit,” He groaned, running his fingers through his curls and gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. Christ.

_Was he queer? Sirius Black, queer? Was the sky blue? Was Fabian Prewett the most annoying creature on earth? Was Snape probably going to go the entire summer without showering?_ “Um, yeah, I’m… Big gay,” Sirius whispered, pressing his lips together and avoiding Remus’ gaze. Big gay. “So don’t apologize. It was nice. I don’t have to be… Drunk to kiss boys or anything.”

Sirius thought his kissing was nice. Remus could have died happily, drifted into oblivion...But not yet. No, he had to find out where this might be going. Was he expecting too much? Expecting anything at all from Sirius was probably expecting too much. “Erm. So...Was last night just an impulse?” Impulse makeout? “If so, it’s fine, I just wasn’t sure how you…Well, fuck. I hate myself. I sound like such a dumbass. It’s not every day that I…I’m beside myself. Sorry. Yeah.”

“An impulse? Yeah,” Sirius paused in his search for the right words until they suddenly all came out in a tumble. “I’d never work up the courage to kiss a handsome, presumably-straight guy on my own, so when you asked the high five question I thought it was just a coincidence. Next thing I knew, we were all over each other and, well...I’d been thinking about you some. That is, uh--” Sirius faltered for a moment. Get it together, Black. “It wasn’t the first time I’d taken notice of you.” Sirius stepped slightly closer to Remus, taking the boy’s arm and lifting his hand to bend it at the wrist. He pressed his hand against Remus’ in a high five but Sirius lingered a second longer than necessary.

Of all things, Remus couldn’t take that. He was on Sirius then, wrapping his arms around Sirius’ waist and closing the distance between them. “You, me. Canoe shed,” he smirked, taking Sirius’ hand and dragging him into the dark, damp little building. There was no lamp, just a few cracks and spaces in the wood that allowed for Sun or Moonlight, so finding each other in the dark was a bit of a struggle. Remus took a few steps backwards and pulled Sirius with him, kicking the door closed with a grin. “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one staring,” he mumbled, curling his hand around the back of Sirius’ neck and leaning in, pressing their noses together. “Is it wrong if I want this so badly?”

“No,” Sirius breathed, shaking his head and swallowing hard. “I want it, too.” He felt Remus’ lips ghost over his own and couldn’t help but shudder. “God damn it, just kiss me,” he finally whispered, wrapping his arms around Remus’ neck. Someone was more than happy to oblige. So much wondering, worrying, gay pining, had led to this. Very gay pining.

It was all Sirius could do to just to take this boy in for a moment. Not like that. Yet. Remus’ lips were chapped and he tasted like toothpaste. His hands were sort of rough and calloused, but in a nice way that said hello, yes, I am a man, a gay man who is currently making out with you and also my hands are on your waist. Those hands felt rather nice, now that Sirius was thinking about it, and said hands were making their way under his shirt. Gropey pervert. Not that he minded. “How--” Sirius paused, the question prancing nervously on his lips as if it couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be heard. “How far?”

Remus pulled back. Of course. “I have...Things. You know. If it comes to that. But only as far as you’re comfortable going,” he swallowed. “I haven’t…” Shit. He didn’t have to admit to this, but he felt like he had to be honest. “I haven’t been with anyone before. Besides…Fuck, it sounds so lame. Just touching. Just in case you don’t… Want to be with a virgin, or something, I guess.” he blushed, shrinking back a little and running his fingers through his hair.

“You have things? And just why are you so prepared Remus Lupin?” Sirius asked, a note of humor evident in his breathless tone. His question was blown over by such a...Ridiculously placed confession. “You think I wouldn’t want you if you were a virgin? The fact that you’re handsome as hell aside, we’re two queers, Lupin. It’s 1978. I couldn’t care less. All I know is I’m dying for a good night and a guy with a stupidly perfect jawline is suddenly willing to supply.” Sirius totally didn’t have a crush or anything.

“I am prepared because you can never be too careful,” Remus said, raising his eyebrows. He didn’t realize that Sirius was teasing. “You’ve heard about that disease, right? A bunch of my old friends back home know some of the older queers that have it. Seems to be a trend with them. I’m not risking shit,” He said, sounding just a little panicked. “You’re clean, right?” SIrius nodded, and that was enough for Remus. “But yeah, I want it. Want you. I can definitely supply a good night,” he bit his lip, reaching for the hem of his own shirt and pulling it over his head just to prove a point. “I can’t stop thinking about being with you like that,” he whispered, his fingers curling into the fabric of Sirius’ shirt and removing that, as well. Remus pulled Sirius flush to his chest, then, just to feel his warmth.

Within a few minutes, they were both in a corner of the shed behind a stack of boats, Sirius straddling Remus’ lap, each other’s hands in the other’s pants. Their hands were tentative as they explored one another, their soft moans drowned out by the drones of the crickets outside. Neither one of them had asked the biggest question, and it weighed heavily on both of their minds--Who would top?

This was not hard to figure out. Sirius Black was, essentially, a fake top. He had the boldness and bitchiness of a top but the whiny and poutiness of a bottom. Remus Lupin was a true top. This was evident, as well. He never did anything he did not want to do. Right now, he didn’t want to break the silence to tell Sirius to bottom. Sirius did it for him when he asked where the lube was. Thank. God. Soon, Sirius was coaching Remus on how to get him ready, telling him which movements felt good and how much lubricant was necessary to keep things from getting too painful. Finally, Sirius was positioning himself over Remus’ lap, grinding on top of him and getting him fully hard before things got to the point of no return. Their heartbeats and the small rip of an aluminum wrapper were deafening sounds.

Minerva McGonagall walked by not a moment after Remus Lupin had put on his first condom. She opened the door, said “Not bad,” and closed the door to the shed only to lock it behind herself. Sirius went perfectly still. Remus’ soul left his body. They heard the soft click of the lock and knew that their lives might as well be over. Maybe the canoes would topple over onto them and kill them both.

Remus was the first to move, and expected to push the door open as he walked, seeing as the door knob sucked and the lock never slid into place well. Instead, he ran into it. Yet to think the worst, he fumbled around for the knob and tried to turn it, no such luck. “No.” Sirius said, as if uttering the word ‘no’ would magically make this situation fake. He suddenly remembered that he was very hard and very naked and now was very, very, scared. “Remus, open the door. Open the door.” Sirius reached for the knob and roughly shook it, but it barely budged. “Maybe it’s jammed.” Remus suggested, turning his shoulder to the door in preparation to try and open it. He threw his weight against the door three times. Still nothing. “I think we got locked in. When has she ever locked the fucking doors? Who the hell is going to come out into the middle of nowhere and steal a bunch of shitty canoes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casual, non-graphic, almsost-sexy times. That's how we like it here at Camp What-ever-the-fuck.


End file.
